The Song of the Fellowship
by Meg Kenobi
Summary: Legolas, Strider and Gimli continue their pursuit of Merry and Pippin, but fear they have wandered off course. They pass a lonely, hopeless night by writing the Song of the Fellowship.


Author's note: I have only reached Boromir's funeral in, " The Two Towers",   
so I am sorry for any inconsistancies.  
  
Disclaimer: Were I Tolkien, I would be rich, dead and I would own Legolas.   
But I'm not and I don't, so don't sue me.   
  
  
Song of the Fellowship  
  
It was a cold, lonely night. For too many days the three had trecked,  
alone and frozen, hope blending into the drab, grey horizon. The sunlight   
held no reprive from the emptiness, the languid tendrils of a distant sun   
barely warming the forsaken landscape.  
"We have traveled very far," murmured Aragorn, his eyes cast to the   
empty sky. "I fear I am not entirely sure where we are."  
Legolas nodded solemnly.  
"Perhaps I am mistaken," he said softly, "But I can not see the light  
of Evenstar."  
"No," said Strider, shaking his head. "That is not possibe. She   
does not fade."  
"No star's light can shine everywhere."  
"You're not sugesting-?"  
"Is it not possible?"   
Strider paused, considering his friend's words and their darker   
connotations. To say they were in a place where Evenstar could not shine was   
to speak of a place of deeper evil than Mordor.  
Gimli snorted then.  
"If you had only listened to me and taken the Gldir mineshaft through  
the Pass, this would never have happened," the dwarf gruffly spoke.  
Legolas looked up at his distrusted companion.  
"Your last shortcut cost us Gandolf," the elf said.   
This silenced Gimli for a moment, but he soon continued.  
"You know, if you trusted me for anything we might not always be   
lost. For certain, no one knows the way of the Wood as you, but the Mines   
and hidden passes are to my mind as the trees are to yours. I know them.  
Distrust me if you will, but that is not the way of a Fellowship."  
Legolas lowered his eyes guiltily, chastized by the words of a dwarf.  
Strider looked around him, and then at his two companions.  
"He is right," he said. He drew a breath then and rose, his face   
painted with deeper thought.  
"I think Master Frodo would say such a night calls for a song."  
"For a Hobbit, even a bath calls for a song," Gimli laughed dryly.  
"Aragorn may have a thought there," Legolas mused. "Come, lend us   
your poetry," he adressed the man.  
The man nodded, and stopped to think. He then began to sing.  
  
" We travel through the cold, bitter Night,  
And through garish Days, callous and bright  
Nine men bound by destiny alone,  
Bent to keep the Dark One from his throne.  
A Ring we cary of unholy power,  
None shall rest until its destructon hour.  
Nine vagabongs united for a time,  
Our numbers here beyond reason or rhyme."  
  
Strider paused, indicating it was up to another to finish the song.  
It was Legolas who continued.  
  
" See here the smallest hearts carry brave and true,  
Four stout hobbit souls to help us carry through.  
See here the son of Gloin and the son of greed,  
This dwarf forgets reward for the common need."  
  
Gimli broke in and began to sing.  
  
" A wizard pledges his staff to our fight,  
Purging darkness for what is right.  
And son of Trees and of the Wood,  
An elf lends powers barely understood."  
  
Over the course of the next few hours, it was decided the song should   
end like this:  
  
" Our numbers may be scattered,  
Our hearts may be shattered,  
We may be gathered from near and far  
But our hearts hold steady under Evenstar.  
We will fight forever, 'til death if it be our best,  
But never shall we waver from the Ring's almighty quest."  
  
There was a long silence.  
"At least you have not left me with the East Winds again," Gimli   
joked.  
A look was exchanged between the three and they began to laugh.   
It seemed strange to do so at first, an alien action in these horrible times,   
but the tension of it all bubbled over in the moment of release.  
Legolas sighed with a vague smile and looked up to the unforgiving   
sky.  
"Look!" He cried, pointing heavenward.   
High above, a veil of deceptive black cloud was lifting. A cresent   
of opal moon clung to the crest of midnight, and directly overhead, Evenstar   
shone in all her glory, giving the weary travelers nearly frgotten hope.  
"Perhaps we are not as lost as we thought," mused Strider, his words   
clearly double edged.  
"Come," said Gimli, leaping to his feet and grabbing his ax. "The   
Hobbit folk can't be far, and no doubt they're traveling by night."  
And so they went, singin, arguing and travelling in silence, but   
together, regardless. Their numbers may have been scattered, but their   
hearts would not be swayed by even the darkest of nights.   
  
  
((Thank you for reading, Please review!)) 


End file.
